Rey read in his cousin’s sad countenance a keen desire to speak to him. He approached her while Doña Perfecta and Don Cayetano were discussing some domestic matter apart.
“You have offended mamma,” said Rosarito.
Her features expressed something like terror.
“It is true,” responded the young man; “I have offended your mamma—I have offended you.”
“No, not me. I already imagined that the Infant Jesus ought not to wear trousers.”
“But I hope that you will both forgive me. Your mamma was so kind to me a little while ago.”
Doña Perfecta’s voice suddenly vibrated through the dining-room, with so discordant a tone that her nephew started as if he had heard a cry of alarm. The voice said imperiously:
“Rosario, go to bed!”
Startled, her mind filled with anxious fears, the girl lingered in the room, going here and there as if she was looking for something. As she passed her cousin she whispered softly and cautiously these words:
“Mamma is angry.”